What Comes Naturally
by CruorLuna
Summary: 'Under the bright lights he could see what he had missed in the dim hall. He inhaled sharply at the sight of his injured brother, and Chase groaned. "Do me a favour and just … don't start."' - Blake/Chase brotherly fluff, set after Chase's beating.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N:** Blake/Chase brotherly fluff once again, this time set after Chase gets beaten up by Tuck and co. It's probably been done before but I love their relationship way too much, and this had been sitting unfinished for way too long, so here it is!

* * *

"Chase?" Blake Collins hissed, exiting his kitchen to the hallway where he had heard a key in the lock. His younger brother was the only other person with a key, but Blake still waited apprehensively for the door to open, which it did very slowly. His brother's head appeared around it and Blake let out a small sigh of relief, moving forwards to close and lock the door after him. "What in God's name are you doing here?" he demanded, wincing at how harsh his words had sounded. Chase ignored him, shuffling through to the kitchen, and Blake frowned after his retreating form. After he had checked that the door was locked he returned to the kitchen, where under the bright lights he could see what he had missed in the dim hall. He inhaled sharply at the sight of his injured brother, and Chase groaned.

"Do me a favour and just … don't start, Blake," Chase warned tiredly. Blake bit back a snide retort, recognising on some level that it must have taken a lot of humility for Chase to come here and allow his brother to see him in his beaten state, and instead pulled out a chair at the table and gently steered the younger man towards it.

"Sit down," he instructed quietly. Chase slumped into the chair, hissing in pain as he dropped into it, and Blake crossed the room and opened the freezer, finding a bag of ice and tipping some of its contents into a tea towel. He wrapped it up tightly and found a rubber band to secure it, before taking the seat opposite Chase and holding it out like an olive branch. Chase stared blankly at it, and Blake rolled his eyes, tipping his brother's head up slightly and pressing the ice pack against his swollen eye. Chase hissed in pain, and Blake grimaced. "Sorry," he muttered.

"I got it," Chase told him, raising an arm laboriously and taking the ice pack from his brother's hand, holding it carefully against the bruised area. Blake nodded and leaned back, eyeing Chase's other injuries critically.

"You need antiseptic for that lip," he noted, and Chase nodded almost imperceptibly. "Are you hurt anywhere else? Let me see your arm." Chase held out his free arm, and Blake resisted the urge to joke about his laziness, instead rolling his brother's sleeve up and examining the numerous scrapes and the blossoming bruise just above his elbow. "All right," he exhaled slowly. "Where else are you hurt?"

"My ribs and my right ankle."

"May I?" Blake gestured to Chase's ankle, and the younger man nodded, his eyes closed against the pain. Blake knelt and slipped off his brother's sneaker, trying to ignore the tensing of the muscles, and felt the swollen ankle gingerly. He rotated it slightly and Chase let out a small cry, jerking his foot back out of reach.

"Dude, that is **not** helping," Chase complained in a low hiss.

"I had to make sure it wasn't broken," Blake apologised, clapping him on the shoulder as he got to his feet. "It's just a mild sprain, which should heal in no time. No dancing on it until I say so, though."

"Whatever." Blake gritted his teeth before responding, willing himself not to say anything that would arouse his brother's quick temper.

"I'm going to go get the First Aid kit," he finally said. "Put your ankle up on the other chair and take the pressure off of it. I won't be long." Chase mumbled something incoherent, which Blake took as a sign of agreement, and he left the room, dimming the lights as he went. From the looks of his injuries, his brother would have a killer headache. He entered his bathroom and quickly gathered some basic supplies, including bandages, painkillers and antiseptic wipes, before hurrying back downstairs. He entered the kitchen quietly, smiling to himself when he saw that Chase was leaning backwards in his chair, looking as though he might fall asleep at any moment. His younger brother cracked one eye.

"Can I go to sleep?" he queried hopefully, and Blake shook his head regretfully.

"The sooner we treat your injuries the better," he pointed out, handing him the wipes. "Clean up your lip and your arm, all right? I'm going to bind this ankle."

"Do you have to?"

"Yes." Blake's tone was one which brooked no opposition, and so Chase reached out and accepted the cleansing wipes without another word and began cleaning up his cuts, his face contorted with pain as he did so. Blake knelt and lifted his brother's leg to slide the bandage underneath it, wrapping it around several times and holding Chase firmly by the foot when he tried to move away again. "Stop that," he warned, and Chase relaxed.

"Be careful," he complained, and Blake really did roll his eyes this time.

"Trust me, you'll thank me for this tomorrow."

"I'd thank you right now if you stopped," Chase pointed out with the ghost of a smile, and Blake snorted.

"I'm almost done." He finished binding the leg and tied the cloth tightly, double knotting it just to be sure, before lifting Chase's leg again to test the strength of the support. "How does that feel?"

"Sore," Chase shrugged, dabbing at his cut lip slowly. "But I guess not as sore as before."

"Good," Blake sighed, setting his foot back onto the chair to let him rest it. "Do you want to let me take a look at your ribs?"

"Not really."

"Chase …"

"Fine," grunted the younger Collins, abandoning the wipes and lifting his shirt with what appeared to be a lot of effort. Blake overcame the urge to demand answers just yet, focussing instead on the blossoming bruises marking his brother's chest. He crouched by Chase's chair and slowly, regretfully, pressed his hand as gently as he could against the injured area. Chase yelped and sucked in a sharp breath, and Blake winced.

"Sorry," he told his brother with a look of sincere regret. "Luckily I don't think you've got any broken ribs, although I'd feel better if a doctor could confirm that."

"I am **not** going to a doctor," Chase snapped.

"Unfortunately I know you well enough to expect as much," Blake retorted easily. "I'm just telling you that my opinion may not be accurate."

"I don't think it hurts enough to be broken," sighed Chase, his anger deflating.

"All right," agreed Blake. "Any other injuries I should look at?"

"No."

"No?"

"No," repeated Chase firmly. "Seriously, bro, that's it." Blake nodded, satisfied that his brother was being sincere, and crossed the kitchen again, pulling things from a cupboard methodically. Chase turned his head slightly, trying to watch him. "What are you doing?"

"Making coffee," Blake told him, and then, foreseeing the next question: "and yes, I will make you a hot chocolate." Out of the corner of his eye, he saw a smile flit across Chase's face as he closed his eyes and leaned back again.

"Thanks, Blake," he murmured drowsily. Blake smiled to himself as he fixed their warm drinks quickly, adding a dash of cream to his coffee and a handful of marshmallows to Chase's hot chocolate. He abandoned the jars on the counter, moving straight to the table with the drinks and setting Chase's in front of him, before taking a seat opposite his brother at the table and taking a long drink of coffee. Chase opened his eyes and inhaled the scent of his hot chocolate, smiling slightly as he raised the mug to his lips and took a small sip. "I miss hot chocolate," he mused, and Blake smiled softly.

"You used to drink nothing else," he recalled. "Although Mom told me you changed your mind about it almost overnight."

"Yeah, 'cause Mom can't make decent chocolate to save herself," Chase informed him over the rim of his mug. "You went to London and I was left with a poor excuse for a hot drink before bed every night. I decided it'd be easier to switch to water." Blake blinked in surprise – his mother had neglected to mention that particular detail.

"I didn't realise," he said quietly, and Chase caught his eye, shrugging.

"It's no big deal, Blake," he said, his tone a little too knowing for Blake's liking. "I was just saying, it's been a long time since I had my big brother's hot chocolate. It's better than any medicine."

"Speaking of which," Blake began, and Chase groaned.

"You're gonna dope me up now?"

"I'd think you'd be glad of some pain relief," the older Collins countered, and Chase shrugged once more.

"I don't like sleeping pills," he admitted, and Blake frowned. He hadn't known his brother had had a need to take sleeping pills.

"All right, no sleeping pills," he promised. "Just something to dull the pain." Chase nodded, and Blake slid a couple of tablets across the table, internally relieved that Chase wasn't going to be stubborn about this. "Do you want some water?" he offered, but Chase shook his head, popping both pills in his mouth and swallowing them over with a gulp of his hot chocolate.

"Thanks," he said once again, and Blake jerked a nod in response. "You haven't asked what happened yet," Chase noted a little suspiciously, and Blake sighed.

"I hoped you'd tell me when you were ready to," he admitted. "Although rest assured that if you hadn't brought it up yourself, I would have gotten around to it sooner rather than later." Chase snorted at that, and Blake managed a smile. "So what did happen?" he prodded, and Chase winced.

"Some guys jumped me."

"I thought as much," Blake nodded. "People you know?"

"No," Chase assured him, a little too quickly. Blake took in the flash of anxiety that passed over his brother's face and the way his left eye twitched slightly, and raised one eyebrow.

"People Andie knows, then," he guessed, able to tell by the fractional widening of his brother's eyes that he had hit the nail on the head. Anger bubbled up inside him and he muttered a curse, setting his mug down on the table a little more forcefully than was necessary. "I knew it," he hissed.

"Don't overreact," Chase began, and Blake snorted.

"I **knew** she was going to be trouble," he insisted furiously. "I knew it was only a matter of time before something like this happened!"

"It wasn't her fault!" Chase told him, his temper flaring up in defence of the girl Blake could tell he really liked. "It was a couple of guys down in her neighbourhood who don't like that she's hanging around with us now."

"What the hell were you doing in that neighbourhood to begin with?" Blake demanded, eyes wide.

"We were just at a barbecue, all right?"

"Well no, it's not all right, because you've come here in this state!"

"Well sorry," Chase drawled, eyes flashing. "I didn't realise I was only welcome here when I wasn't in any kind of trouble!"

"You're putting words in my mouth," Blake informed him.

"That's what you meant though, right?"

"No, Chase, I meant that I'm not all right with the fact that your association with Andie is going to get you beaten to a pulp!" Blake exclaimed in frustration. "You're my brother and I don't want to see you in this state – not 'I don't want to see you when you're in this state,' but 'I don't want my brother to have any reason to **be** in this state!'"

"The guys were punks," Chase told him. "They were waiting for me after I left the barbecue and I didn't stand a chance. Andie wasn't even with me at the time."

"But this happened because they saw you with her."

"Partly," Chase muttered, ducking his head. Blake raised his eyebrows.

"What else?" he asked suspiciously. Chase cringed at his tone, still refusing to meet his brother's eye, which in and of itself was enough to tell Blake that he had done something really idiotic, even for Chase.

"We played this prank," Chase began reluctantly, and Blake groaned aloud, putting his head in his hand. "It was just a joke – nobody got hurt or anything, Blake. We were just messing around with this guy Tuck for trying to make a fool of us."

"Well you sure showed him, didn't you?" Blake deadpanned, and Chase rolled his eyes.

"All I'm saying is, the thing that happened with Tuck would've happened with or without Andie being around." There was something in his brother's eye that told Blake that this wasn't entirely true, but he decided to pick his battles for once.

"Even if that were true, Chase, which I doubt, it doesn't change the fact that Andie's presence in your life has at least in part led to you being in the state you're in now," he reasoned. "Try to see this from my point of view. You're my younger brother and somebody hurt you, and she's the reason why. Excuse me if I'm not throwing a parade."

"Fine, don't throw one, but don't hold a public stoning either," Chase replied bitterly, and Blake quirked a half-smile.

"I think the board of governors would have one or two complaints there too." Chase snorted then, finishing his hot chocolate and finally meeting Blake's gaze.

"Look, Andie might have been why these guys noticed me, but all she did wrong was be friends with me," he pointed out. "She's at MSA trying to change her life for the better, Blake. Yeah, her old friends weren't great guys, but she's got us now. You want to punish her for that?"

"No," Blake admitted. "But I also don't want you turning up on my doorstep covered in bruises and blood ever again. Do you have any idea how you looked?"

"I'm gonna guess not so hot."

"Not at all," Blake assured him dryly.

"Sorry if I scared you," Chase relented, and Blake was surprised to find that that was exactly how he had felt upon laying eyes on Chase, even if he hadn't recognised it at the time. He nodded slowly, draining his mug and taking both empties to the sink.

"Don't do it again," he repeated.

"I'll try," Chase promised.

"All right. Let me find you something to sleep in," Blake told him, gesturing for his brother to lead the way to the spare bedroom. "You must be exhausted."

"Exhausted doesn't even begin to cover it," Chase confessed with a wry grin. He entered the spare bedroom and went into the adjoining bathroom to clean up the remaining blood on his face and arms, and Blake went into his own room, digging out some of his loose dance clothes which might just about fit his slightly taller and broader brother. He took them into the other room, and was just laying them on the bed when Chase exited the bathroom.

"These should do," Blake told him, gesturing to the pile of clothes. "I'll swing by the house in the morning and pick up some of your own clothes."

"What do you mean?" Chase asked, looking confused.

"I don't think you should face Mom and Dad until your bruises fade a little," Blake explained wisely. "If you thought I overreacted, you'd be in for a shock. And I'd rather be able to keep an eye on that ankle and those ribs."

"The ones that aren't even broken."

"We hope," Blake finished sternly. "You don't have to, of course, but I imagined it would be easier for you to stay here for a few days. Plus I don't want to know how you drove here with that ankle, but it would mean you had a ride to and from school." Chase nodded, picking up the makeshift pyjamas.

"Good idea," he agreed. "I'll just go change …"

"Get some sleep," Blake told him, making for the door. "Sleep in tomorrow. I'll talk to Mom and Dad for you and be back here before lunchtime, all right?"

"See you in the morning," Chase nodded. Blake moved into the hallway and was about to close the door when he heard Chase calling him back. He stuck his head back around the doorway, eyebrows raised in a question.

"Do you need something else?" he asked, but Chase shook his head.

"No, I just … I appreciate it, you know?" Blake nodded and offered his brother a reassuring smile.

"I know," he promised. "Night, Chase."

"Night, B." Blake faltered as he pulled the door gently closed behind him. His brother hadn't called him that in a long time. He shook his head as he retreated to the kitchen to do up their dishes and finish up the paperwork he had abandoned. Maybe not everything about tonight had been a complete disaster after all.

* * *

**A/N: **Potentially remaining a oneshot, potentially expanding for a few chapters depending if the next one works ok when I try to finish it! Thoughts are always appreciated!  
Alison


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N:** Chapter 2 of this short fic. Chase and Blake having another little heart to heart the following day – with plenty of teasing in between, of course! There'll probably be one or maybe two more chapters after this, exploring their relationship at different stages of the film.

* * *

"Morning," Chase Collins mumbled wearily, half-stumbling into his brother's kitchen. Blake smiled slightly to himself, setting aside his coffee and crossing to the stove, turning it on and cracking a few eggs into a pan.

"Sit down," he instructed, and Chase threw himself into one of the chairs at the table, groaning in pain. "How are your ribs?"

"They hurt," Chase retorted, and Blake rolled his eyes.

"Unsurprising."

"Gee, thanks for the sympathy, bro."

"You got your sympathy last night," Blake informed him with a small smirk. "Today it's as if none of it happened. We have things to do."

"I'm not going anywhere," Chase argued, glaring menacingly at his older brother. "I'm in pain and I'm tired, and I'm in some more pain. If you think I'm moving from your sofa until this time tomorrow you're out of your mind."

"Well firstly, you most certainly will be moving from my sofa before this time tomorrow, because it's noon already and I will not have you skipping school," Blake told him calmly, flipping the eggs easily. "And secondly, at no point did I say that our plans involved leaving the apartment."

"Well then what do they involve?" asked the younger Collins suspiciously.

"Mostly my giving you stuff," Blake shrugged, laughing slightly as his brother's eyes lit up. "I've got a lot of boxes from our old house in the third bedroom, that I said I'd keep when you moved. There are a lot of your things in them, and some things I'd wanted to give to you before now. I thought since you're here we could go through them."

"What kind of stuff?" Chase queried, looking much more interested.

"Oh, mostly junk," Blake assured him, serving the eggs up onto a plate and setting it in front of his brother. "Eat those and have a shower, and I'll go move the boxes into the living room so we have more space to work."

"These are epic," Chase announced through a full mouth, and Blake grimaced.

"Chew, swallow, and **then** speak, Chase," he complained.

"Whatever."

"I'll be in the living room when you're done," Blake reiterated, finishing his coffee and setting the mug by the sink. Chase jerked a nod to indicate he had heard, still shovelling eggs down his throat as though he hadn't eaten in a month, and Blake shook his head, trying to hide his smile as he left the room for the smaller spare bedroom. He groaned slightly as he swung the door open and took in the chaos that lay before him. He really ought to have made a start on this sooner, he thought grimly, picking his way over boxes of school paperwork to reach the ones marked 'Pinehurst' – the name of the street Chase and he had grown up on. His apartment was in the same area of town, and sometimes he drove by their old house just to see what it looked like. The new owners had let the garden grow a little wild, and there were some hideous drapes in the front window that his mother never would have allowed within ten miles of her home, but other than that it remained unchanged. He smiled fondly as he opened the top box on the nearest pile, removing a stack of photographs and leafing through them.

"There had better not be any there of me in the bath," Chase's voice came from the doorway, and Blake let out a snort.

"Why, oh **why** would you think I'd have any interest in looking at pictures of that?" he demanded, raising his eyebrows as he turned to face his brother. Chase pulled a face and kicked a box out of his way with his good foot rather than attempting to climb over it, moving further into the room with a curious expression on his face.

"You seriously kept all this stuff?" he asked, eyes widening slightly.

"Some of it I kept because I wanted to," Blake nodded. "Mom and Dad asked me to keep some in storage until you got settled and then never came back to collect it."

"That figures," Chase nodded with a wry chuckle. "Mind if I …?"

"Feel free," shrugged the older Collins, gesturing around him. "Everything marked 'Pinehurst' is ours. The rest is schoolwork, London boxes …"

"You haven't unpacked any of your London stuff yet?" Chase gaped at him. "Man, why bother keeping it if you're going to shove it all in a cupboard somewhere and never touch it again?"

"It's a bedroom, actually."

"See, I don't think you get to call me a smartass when you make comments like that."

"Of course I do," Blake laughed. "I'm older."

"Mature logic, bro," Chase snorted, shaking his head and tearing the tape from one of the boxes marked 'Swan Lake etc.' "What's all this then?"

"Not marked 'Pinehurst,' at any rate," retorted Blake mildly, making to flip the box closed but failing, as Chase tugged it backwards out of his reach. "Chase …"

"Who is **she**?" his brother crowed, letting out a low whistle as he dug out a photograph from underneath an old playbill. Blake winced as Chase turned on him, waving the picture in his face with an accusing smirk. "She's hot, bro! Who is she?"

"Chase, give me the picture," Blake ordered, but Chase merely scoffed.

"Not likely."

"She's an old dance partner," he relented, holding his hand out for the photograph expectantly, hoping that would be enough explanation. Chase shook his head and held it out of reach, examining the picture closely.

"Ex-girlfriend?" he guessed, eyebrows raised.

"Not exactly," Blake muttered, giving up on trying to retrieve the picture and turning back to the photos he had found of Chase and himself growing up.

"Oh, could you please be more vague?" Chase deadpanned, and Blake rolled his eyes.

"She's just someone I knew in London."

"Wow, I can't believe it: you did it. That was more vague," noted Chase.

"Weren't you going to take a shower?" demanded Blake, sucking on the inside of his cheek to keep him from saying something he might regret.

"Yeah, but this is way more fun," smirked Chase, rummaging through the box and retrieving more photographs. "Is this her?" Blake glanced over his shoulder to see which pictures his brother had found and nodded curtly.

"Yes," he admitted.

"It's hard to tell under the makeup," Chase mused. "Like this looks **nothing** like you."

"I'll take that as a compliment."

"Whatever you say, bro."

"Seriously, Chase, there's a lot of stuff here," Blake reminded him a little more sternly than he had intended to. "If we want to actually get through it all we should get stuck in."

"Hey, it's sat here this long," shrugged Chase unconcernedly. "I'd much rather look at your old stuff and bug you about it."

"Why doesn't that surprise me?"

"Ah-ha!" Chase exclaimed triumphantly. "Her name's Ellie, right?"

"How would you know that?" Blake asked, amazed, as he turned around to face his brother more fully. Chase smirked and pointed to the back of a photo he was holding, upon which someone had scrawled '_Blake & Ellie: Christmas 2001_.' Blake let out a groan and snatched the picture, stuffing it into a pile of papers without comment, and Chase gave a low whistle.

"Man, I've definitely hit a nerve," he gloated. "She must be an ex-girlfriend."

"All right, fine, she's an ex-girlfriend," sighed Blake dramatically. "Is there any way life can possibly go on now?"

"Why'd you break up?"

"I'll take that as a no," muttered the older Collins, hoisting a box into his arms and shoving Chase lightly out of his way as he headed for the living room with it. He set it down on the coffee table and smirked when he heard Chase approaching him from behind a few moments later. His brother set another heavy box down alongside the first one and joined him in sitting on the sofa, pulling the table closer and peering down into the box.

"She didn't want to move to Baltimore," Chase guessed, and Blake groaned aloud.

"Can't you be like every other teenager and have an attention span of forty-five seconds?" he demanded, only half-kidding. Chase shrugged as he pulled out a sheaf of photographs and grinned down at the top one.

"Remember this?" he asked, passing it to Blake, who couldn't stop himself from breaking into a grin as he took it. The picture was of the two of them in a swimming pool, Chase on his shoulders, playing volleyball against a couple of kids they had met staying in the same hotel. Chase was sporting the biggest grin Blake had ever seen, and he himself was mid-laugh as his brother reached up as high as he could to slam the ball.

"Hawaii," Blake recalled with a nod. "I was … sixteen."

"I was only six," Chase grinned. "I remember Mom and Dad freaked out when they came out to find us."

"They'd made me promise to look after you," Blake explained, eyes still fixed on the picture. "Apparently dear Mother was worried I was going to drop you and you'd split your head open and we'd lose our dinner reservation."

"There's nobody quite like Mom, is there?"

"There really isn't," Blake agreed, rolling his eyes as he set the picture down on the table.

"Speaking of Mom …" Chase began. "Did you go by the house this morning?"

"I did."

"And …?"

"And if either of them asks, you had an accident whilst dancing," Blake told him, enjoying the way his brother's eyebrows shot up in surprise. "I had planned on telling them the truth, but seeing their reactions to the fact that you 'weren't fit enough' to be there with me convinced me that they'd only worry more than necessary. Not that I condone lying to our parents," he added quickly, "but just this once, I think it's better for both of our sanities that they remain in the dark."

"You're the man," Chase proclaimed, slinging an arm around his brother's shoulders with a broad grin. "And they didn't ask why I'd be staying with you?"

"I told them it's so I can drive you to and from school with your bad ankle without putting them to any extra trouble," Blake admitted, and Chase let out a whoop.

"_Nice_," he nodded. "Hey, when was this?" He snatched a photo from the pile Blake had been perusing, frowning down at it. It showed him holding a first place dance trophy, grinning toothily at the camera, with his parents on either side of him looking pleased as punch. He flipped it over to read the date on the back. "_Chase winning his first competition – aged nine_," he read aloud. "You weren't there for that."

"No," Blake agreed. "Mom sent me photos of you; pictures you'd drawn at school; copies of your report cards …"

"Why?"

"I asked her to," shrugged Blake uncomfortably. Chase shot him a sideways glance, and after a moment's hesitation, he elaborated. "You were so mad at me when I left," he attempted to explain. "You said you'd never speak to me again. I understood – you were only seven years old. But for a kid that age, you really knew how to hold a grudge. It was Christmas, when I came back from London, before you actually spoke to me, and even then things were … different, to how they had been. I missed you; I wanted to know what was going on in your life."

"You missed me?" Chase repeated, looking stunned. Blake furrowed his brow.

"I would've thought that would be a given."

"Would've been nice if somebody had thought to tell me that," Chase muttered. "I just figured you were off having the time of your life in London and you'd be glad not to have to look after me any more."

"Oh, don't misunderstand – you drove me completely insane," Blake assured him with a smirk. "But life seemed a little too quiet without someone to wake me up at five am on my birthday to give me a card, or beg me to take him to watch me rehearse."

"I just thought you put up with me because you had to."

"Trust me, no amount of familial pressure in the world could have forced me to spend time with you had I not liked you at least a little, Chase," Blake commented dryly. "You were quite the monster."

"I was, wasn't I?" Chase smirked.

"Yes!"

"Seriously, bro, I didn't know you kept this stuff," continued Chase more seriously, flipping through the folders of his A+ tests and essays lying at the top of the first box.

"You're not going to cry, are you?" Blake asked suspiciously, and Chase snorted.

"I think I can hold it in," he reassured his brother, who chuckled in response.

"Good to know," he nodded.

"So what about this one?" Chase asked, clearing his throat gruffly and grabbing another picture at random. "I don't remember that either."

"You were only four," shrugged Blake. "It was Dad's fortieth birthday party. He and Mom had invited all of their high-society friends and were greeting them all in the foyer, and you and I had snuck out back to play baseball. This was after cousin Lilith found us covered in dirt and grass."

"Mom and Dad didn't completely freak out?" Chase asked in surprise.

"They had, er, both had a few glasses of champagne already," Blake replied delicately, to Chase's great amusement.

"They never knew?"

"Not as such," grinned Blake. "Lilith snapped a picture then bundled us upstairs to change. It was only afterwards I realised she intended to blackmail me with it."

"What did she make you do?" queried Chase, trying to build up a picture.

"Oh, she kept it for a few years. Eventually she traded it for a blind date with some god-awful friend of hers when I was about seventeen," Blake reminisced with a grimace. "A nice enough girl in theory, I suppose, but no table manners whatsoever. I remember having to tip almost the cost of the meal out of an apology to the poor waitress."

"Ouch," chortled his brother. "I can't believe I missed all this."

"You were only a kid," shrugged Blake. "Besides, I don't think you were her friend's type." Chase let out a loud guffaw at that, and Blake allowed himself a smile as he watched his brother double over with laughter, before wincing and holding his ribs.

"Don't make me laugh that hard, bro," he complained. "The ribs are still a bit sore."

"Can I get you some more medicine?" Blake offered, making to stand, but Chase shook his head.

"They're not so bad," he promised. "Man, it just … it's so weird to me that you have all this stuff from my life and I had no idea what was going on with you for so long. I know it was mostly my own fault, but …" Blake sat in silence for a moment, before sighing.

"Eleanor," he said clearly, and Chase raised his eyebrows in question. "Ellie's real name was Eleanor," he clarified. "She was my girlfriend for … just over two years. We started dating when I was twenty-one, in London. We toured Europe together and I suppose spending so much time together threw us into a relationship. We were supposed to move back here together."

"What happened?" Chase asked slowly, and Blake chewed on the inside of his cheek for a moment before responding.

"She cheated on me," he admitted with a grimace. "With our old dance instructor."

"What?" Chase exclaimed, looking outraged. "What kind of a person does that?"

"Evidently the same kind of person your idiot older brother falls for," Blake joked dryly.

"I can't believe I never knew about her," Chase murmured, seeming stunned. "I mean, I would've been thirteen when you guys split up – this wasn't that long ago, Blake. How did I never know that you were seeing someone for that long?"

"I wanted to tell you in person," Blake explained. "Mom and Dad knew about her – they met her when they came to see us perform in Moscow – and they didn't approve. I think I was worried they might get to you. I didn't want to tell you until I could be there to see your face and introduce you to her, so you could make up your own mind."

"And this was during my hating everyone phase, wasn't it?" Chase realised.

"There was also that," conceded Blake. "We had just about become friends again, and then you hit puberty and decided I was in league with Mom and Dad and out to ruin your life."

"In all fairness, they told me you'd be coming home after RBS."

"In all fairness, I asked them not to make promises they couldn't keep."

"I might've been selfish," relented Chase, before grinning at his brother's disbelieving look. "All right, I was really selfish. I'm sorry that happened to you, though."

"Thanks," acknowledged Blake. "Although it could've been worse. Ellie wasn't right for me. I suppose had it never happened we might have ended up married. I definitely wouldn't be Director of MSA right now."

"And God knows where I'd be if that hadn't happened," agreed Chase with a smirk. "Yeah, all right, I'm not so sorry any more."

"You're a jerk."

"As long as I'm still your favourite jerk," quipped Chase, and Blake snorted then, finding another pile of photos to reminisce over.

"Always."

* * *

**A/N:** Have to clarify, Ellie is not an OC I plan on using again - she's only in here for convenience, really, to give Chase something to tease Blake about and to have him find out something he didn't know about his brother. It may not quite fit in with the first one but I love exploring their relationship, and I figured since I have Chase spending some time at Blake's place I may as well have a go at showing how I imagine that time would go. Thoughts are always appreciated!


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